


Once more

by Aggie



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, One Shot, POV Eren Yeager, Past Lovers, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9554894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aggie/pseuds/Aggie
Summary: Eren wasn't prepared for meeting the love of his life again after such a long time





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> It's the first time I share something on the internet, and I'm nervous as hell. But don't worry, I'll be fine.  
> Long story short, the idea of this one shot came in my mind in the end of summer, and I finished it like months later, and my beta loved it, and here I am.  
> English is not my mother tongue, neither to my beta, so if there are any mistakes (of course there are, who do I wanna fool), then just write me a comment about it and teach me the deepest secrets of English language.  
> I don't know what to say now.  
> Enjoy? I guess...  
> Enjoy!

The metro’s doors opened automatically right after it stopped at the station.

I never once glanced up as I watched dumbly a few pairs of different shoes getting off the train. I huffed quietly when I turned to get on. My eyelids were heavy, my body was weak and my limbs felt numb. I almost sighed loudly in relief as I fell down in a seat right next to the entrance. My legs just couldn’t carry me any further.

I was so fucking tired again... It was late at night and my shift lasted long on Tuesdays. I worked at this company for three years now, but I still got too exhausted every Tuesday night. 

The train set off and my eyes almost shut immediately. It was a habit of mine to fall asleep on the way home. I travelled until the terminal, anyway, so I didn’t have to listen to which station I am at. And because it was late, there were always just a few people here, letting me sleep over that fifty minutes without any disturb.

But that night, I didn’t sleep.

I blinked tiredly but before I would close my eyes properly, I noticed a pair of shiny black patent-leather shoes in front of me. All of the sleepiness was washed away in that very moment when the realization hit me – _he always wore shiny black patent-leather shoes..._

My heart started to race in my chest and my breathing fastened. I felt my cheeks go rosy from excitement.

_Wait... wait, what? What am I thinking? This can’t be him... No, no, it can’t... right?_

I blinked hurriedly and I wanted look up so, so much but the fear stopped me. It’s not like I had never seen anyone else wearing this kind of shoes, it was kind of popular actually, but right at that moment a wave of strange coolness rushed through my spine. I had this feeling it was him and this scared the shit out of me. My insides were hot while I shivered from the coldness of my skin.

I focused a little higher, and _fuck_ , those thin ankles and those visibly strong calves! I didn’t even know if I was rather afraid or sad or happy or excited or just like I-wanna-get-the-fuck-out-of-here.

I looked up. I looked up to see him, but he was reading that fucking newspaper which fucking hid his fucking face! No, I wasn’t frustrated _at all!_

But I didn’t have to see his face to know it was him. My heart ached as I examined those shoes, the neat and pressed trousers, the dark black jacket, the old, brown briefcase and the long, pale, slender fingers which were holding the newspaper casually.

There was no doubt it was him; Levi Ackerman.

I wanted to run. I already sweated and I wanted to run away, far, far away, as far as I could. I didn’t want to face him, no, because I was afraid of his reaction, and because my life had just started to re-establish and I didn’t want him to hurt me again. But no matter what I felt or what I thought because I couldn’t take my eyes off of him anyway.

I wasn’t prepared for seeing him again so randomly. Fuck, I hadn’t been even sure if I will see him ever again. In the latest year, I felt like I was happy again and I didn’t need him anymore, but all these thoughts got vanished completely now as I stared at him nonstop. No, I wasn’t right enough to be able to meet him and look into his eyes again, and maybe I will never be. But he was right in front of me now, he was real and alive. All of the unwanted feelings which had haunted me long ago broke out from the locked door and filled my whole heart. I was still in love with him. And it still hurt.

Suddenly he stirred, and I tensed when I could see his face as he folded the newspaper. My heart beat a lot stronger than before and I almost shrieked.

He was still handsome. His glance with those precious matt silver eyes was still cold and icy, and I bet his gaze could still pierce into souls like sharp knives. His thin, light pink lips still looked kissable. His skin was still pale and flawless. His dark raven locks were still hanging softly in their perfect ways, and he still had his short undercut. He hadn’t changed. Okay, maybe there were a few more wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, but he looked the same. He was still neat, still accurate...

Still beautiful.

He didn’t look up. He watched as he turned a page over before he continued reading, hiding his face again.

I stared at him with wide eyes and I had to gulp. I felt really, really hot, and not just because it was deliberately warm under the ground. I was fucking desperate about this whole situation. 

I counted how many times he turned a page over – it was seventeen – and I watched as he was getting to the end. There were pages he left behind quickly, but there were a few articles he spent more time at. He was casual, like always, and I quickly found myself enjoying the calm view of him. I enjoyed the light anticipation warming up my chest every time I waited for seeing his gorgeous features again, the way my inside turned upside-down when I glanced at his face, the silence, and the low purr of the metro. It didn’t even surprise me he still hadn’t glanced at me. Knowing him, he felt someone was stalking him but he just didn’t give a single fuck.

We were halfway now and he didn’t seem he wanted to get off soon. My cheeks blushed at the thought of where he would get off. I looked down at his shoes and wondered where he was living now. And, did he work at the same place, at the same rate, or had he managed to climb up? Who did he live with – was he alone? Was he satisfied with his life? Did he have the same habits? Why was he going home this late? Was this a special time, that was the reason why I had never seen him here this time around, or had we just always unintentionally missed meeting each other? Did he have the same friends – had he made new ones? Oh, his friends... How were his friends doing? The crazy brown haired girl, the copy of Captain America and the sniffing guy? The reddish haired girl, her tongue-biting husband, the one with weird hair and the always nice boy? Did they remember me and sometimes think about me? 

Did _he_ sometimes think about me?

When this question crossed my mind I couldn’t help glancing back up at him. He was still reading.

Suddenly then, he folded the newspaper in half and reached for his briefcase.

 _Oh, god, he finished it... Oh, gosh, no, he’s gonna look at me, fucking damn it!_ And with that, I was dragged out from the peaceful state, my heart palpitated so hard again my whole body trembled.

He took away the newspaper, carefully slipped it between two important files before closing the case and glancing up. Directly into my eyes.

My guts flipped and I wanted to throw it all up along with my heart.

His gorgeous eyes widened a little and he jerked back in shock. He blinked a few times before calming his features, but he didn’t take his eyes off of me. We stared at each other.

I probably looked like a scared little sparrow with my messy brown hair, wide and slightly watery eyes, opened mouth and red face. I felt as small sweat-drops started to stream down under my shirt. I was so desperate, I really didn’t have any idea what to do now. My feelings crashed so hard my brain shut down and my body wanted to explode.

In contrast with my helplessness, he seemed totally calm. He sat like before, he didn’t shift in his seat, his eyes were emotionless, his gaze was icy, his breathing seemed slow and he didn’t trembled. The only thing that showed he wasn’t quite right either was that pink blush on his cheeks. That was the only thing he couldn’t control. He blinked at me casually, he didn’t seem terrified like I did and was, but somewhere I hoped he was feeling himself as bad as I did.

And as weird it was, the awkwardness of mine and the freezing look of his reminded me the first time I had seen him on that train station and how gorgeous he had been with the slowly falling snow around him. The first words, my helpless awkwardness and his cool confidence. The first time I heard the most beautiful voice of all, that sometimes made my heart flutter or my groin harden. How nervous I was when I asked him out and how happy I was when he said yes. Our first date in that warm teahouse which quickly became our favourite place to hide. The long talks, the laughs, the comfortable silences, the way we fell in love deeply. When he held my hand and interlaced our fingers. Our first kiss on the hillside in the late sunset, alone, lost in our love. The stolen kisses and the loving words, the softness of his lips and the low huskiness of his voice. How his naturally cold eyes lighted up with pure love whenever he looked at me, the butterfly kisses with those long eyelashes. How good the sex was with him and how many times we screamed each other’s name in pleasure. The gentleness of his touches and the smoothness of his skin. That wonderful smile of his melted me every time. How responsible, accurate, understanding and caring he was, his interesting thoughts of the world. How he taught me to be more mature and how I taught him to be kinder. How many times we shared our hidden feelings. How many times we helped the other, how loyal we were. The amusing times with our friends and family. The endless cuddles alone. The time when we moved together after three years, when I graduated in high school. Our domestic life in our sweet home. How happy we were.

How much I loved him.

I couldn’t help but thinking about when the hard times had started. When the little things became serious. How many times we argued, and how many times we fought. How many harsh words were shouted, and how many times we forgave. How many slaps were given, and how hard they were. How much we cried, alone and together. How worse it got every single day. How many promises and glasses were shattered, and how bittersweet it was to clean up together all the mess we had made and try to forgive, or to forget. How much we got to hate each other after those hateful months, but still how much we adored each other. How hard it was to deal with all the studies in university and all those harms in my personal life. How our loved ones couldn’t help us even if they wanted to. Those days when we were in peace again, when there was just pure love again. Those days when we started the shouting again, when we fell apart again. How fast we changed. How much we wanted to save our relationship and how much we couldn’t. How it hurt when he decided to leave. How much I cried alone. How many times I begged him and how stubborn he was at the last times. His last steps. How they echoed. When we moved out without making any contact with each other. Our last texts about selling the house, my useless begs and his final goodbye. How fucking hurting and painful it was to break up after seven years.

How much I still loved him. How much I missed him.

I didn’t know what he was thinking about while our relationship flashed before my eyes, but I was damn curious about it. I wished I could read in his mind – oh, how many times I had wished that back then. _Some things just never change_ , I guessed.

I had no idea how long we watched each other. The world seemed to stop around us, at least for me. Once I got used to him staring at me, my blush disappeared and my nerves relaxed a bit. I found myself longing for being hugged by him, feeling his strong arms around my back and waist, listening to his breathing and heartbeating.

He stood up while still looking directly in my eyes. _Oh, no!_ Then he started to walk with slow steps towards me, and _fucking shit_ , I almost throw up my heart which suddenly was beating extremely fast in the cage of my ribs. I felt the sweat flowing down on my back.

He looked away when he finally stopped beside me, in front of the door. I kind of relaxed, but I felt awkward because of my thoughts. He didn’t hold onto anything, just like he never did. It was because he didn’t want to touch anything dirty. He hated dirtiness. I knew it all too well. It was something we could never come to an understanding about: I was a little messy and a little negligent while Levi was a total maximalist and a total clean freak.

People used to say that the problem between us was the huge age difference. But it wasn’t true. They only said it because they didn’t believe in love between a fifteen-year-old teenager and a thirty-one-year-old man – Levi and I always laughed at them. The real problem about us was our personality. We had habits we couldn’t leave behind, and these things came out only when we already had been living together for one-two years. And it didn’t matter how strong our love was. We messed it up, so, so badly.

But... maybe now. Maybe the reason we met now was that we had to fix the damages we had made and try it again. Or maybe I just loved to think that.

He stood next to me, looking ahead. I gazed at him with pure awe and desire and pain reflecting in my turquoise eyes. At this rate, my whole body wanted to collapse into itself.

He glanced at me. Calm, now a little stormy silvers were staring right at me, right into the deepest points of my soul, with that usual emotionless expression and I felt my face and even the tips of my ears heating up uncontrollably. He was so close to me.

I knew that the ride between the two stations slowly came to an end and my brain and my heart literally fought for dominance about who’s the one taking the control over my own body. My heart desperately wanted to touch him, to talk to him, to be with him again and solve the problems we had escaped from despite of solving them, but my brain knew everything and cruelly shouted the fact how we had hurt each other and it would happen all over again and that would be too much for me to take.

He lifted his right hand. Oh, god, he lifted his hand and reached out towards my right cheek. I trembled in my seat and glanced down to those long, pale, cold and beautiful fingers which had touched and caressed and loved me over nights and days, and which had been clinched into fists or had threw all those glasses to the wall or had snapped on my face, all by anger.

And then I noticed it. I noticed it and all my hope and whole heart broke apart as I blinked bitterly at the shiny wedding ring.

Levi was married.

He forgot me and found someone else, someone better than me. He moved on while I was silently suffering from the emptiness in my chest and the wounds on my soul. He was living his life without even thinking of me while all I ever wanted was him being there with me in every moment of the day. He was living with someone, with his _husband_ , he woke up beside them every morning and got to sleep beside them every night. He texted and talked and ate and chilled and watched movies with them, he even kissed and fucked them. While there I was, single and heartbroken and still longing for him, longing for doing all these things with him how I used to.

I felt the sadness pumping in my veins and I let out a little quick sigh. A scar ripped open and a shiver ran through my skin while my blood was nearly burning. I couldn’t decide if I was rather on fire or just simply freezing. Maybe both.

Levi stopped his hand in midair when he realized I was staring at his ring. I blinked and looked up at him, silently asking if it was true or just a bad joke.

His tense silence gave me the perfect answer. I surprisingly noticed how his cheeks became a slightly rosier and how he started to blink a little more rapidly, making his silvery irises shine. A stranger would be oblivious about these little signs of Levi being embarrassed, but I knew him all too well. He was ashamed of being married in front of me.

He gulped nervously but he continued the movement of his hand.

I immediately leaned in his touch as the back of his fingers reached my cheek. My body automatically relaxed in his caress, my eyelids dropped for a second in release as I let out the stuck air from my lungs. Cold fingers almost melting against my flagrant skin. I opened my eyes again to watch him as he stroked me slowly. He followed his own movements with his gaze. His skin felt like silk, and I couldn’t help the pleasant boiling in my stomach. I shamelessly let him caress me from my cheek to my chin, I even asked for it by slightly tilting my head back like a cat. 

My eyes widened as his thumb rushed across my lower lip. Suddenly I felt every muscle on my mouth’s area, and somehow I managed to resist the urge of moving them. I watched him curiously, I tried to read from his expression but it was impossible. I found myself internally begging him to kiss me already, but at the same time I met with my fears and worries, and oh, fuck, how the fuck was I supposed to handle this?!

I saw him sighing quickly before gulping nervously again. He looked at me for a short second, and my heart almost jumped out of my chest, because all I could see was pure desire in his eyes. There was a moment when I was sure he’s going to lean down and take me in his arms.

But his eyes rapidly became emotionless and cold again, and he pulled back his hand immediately. Well... maybe that desire thing was just my imagination? Or just my own reflection in his eyes?

He pressed his arm haphazardly to his side while looking away from me to his own reflection in the glass of the door. His expression was oh so cold and hard and it confused me till the end. I wanted to know how he felt and what he thought but I just couldn’t make out any fucking emotion from his features.

I remembered how much I had adored that coldness of his. I found it sexy and attractive and I wanted to shatter his walls, and when I did, I met the most beautiful person in the world. I was so happy... I fell in love with him again and again every time he showed me all of those feelings he was covering.

And now, when everything I wanted to know was how he felt, I was angry at him for being that damn firm. But still... how could I really hate him for something I still loved him for? So I just watched him standing there, mesmerized, almost like the very first time I had seen him.

We both felt as the underground braked, warning us about the end of our ride together. I looked down, and my brain refused to acknowledge what was happening. The desperate screams in my head were shot down, I didn’t want to hear what they’re saying, I didn’t want to face reality, because in reality time couldn’t stop, a moment couldn’t last forever like in my mind. In reality, we were just strangers who once used to know and even love each other. We weren’t more than long lost memories.

I almost missed when the metro stopped. I stared at my rosy and sweaty hands while I heard the doors opening. I heard it but didn’t comprehend it, the fact couldn’t take his way to my brain. There was such a big silence in my brain it was loud, but with the first question in my head, my thoughts became noisier than ever. But even in that chaos I managed to catch the firm knocks of Levi’s shoes on the ground. I just didn’t comprehend it. I blinked numbly and, despite of the boiling blood in my veins and the desperately coiling guts in my stomach, I was frozen in my place. I couldn’t move, my limbs felt numb and my brain got all sloppy again. There were too much questions.

 _What would I say? What would_ he _say? What if he doesn’t want to get in touch with me again? Fucking damn it, he’s a married man! I can’t do anything with that, he’s never gonna be mine again! He’s better off without me! But still, I wanna see him more, I wanna be his friend at least. No, no, it’s stupid. I don’t wanna feel hurt again. But..._

_What if I’m gonna regret letting him walk away?_

_Would I regret it?_

_Would I...?_

It was just one quick moment when my system restarted and I was filled with an emotion I would like to call hope and want, but I couldn’t really define it. All I knew was that I somehow managed to straighten myself and shift around to see if the doors were still open.

But they weren’t.

In the next second I was already panicking and fat tears bubbled over my eyes. I turned around to see him more and more because I just started to comprehend the fact that I was not going to be able to see him ever again in my poor little life. I straightened myself and stuck my hot palms on the disgustingly dirty glass.

I didn’t have to search for him. He was the only one who had got off this station in such a late hour.

He really hadn’t changed. He was walking in that exact way how he always did. Strong legs following the other with long, neat steps, his back straight and his head raised a little when he was looking ahead and lowered when he glanced to the ground. His body moved in a starchy, perfect way. I remembered all too well how his arm was rocking from the memories when we had been holding hands while walking by the other’s side.

I watched in the hope he will turn around, give me one more glance and do some fucking miracle. I wanted to break through the door, tell him not to leave me again because I needed him, oh how much I needed him!

But no matter what I wanted. Life went on, the metro set off to arrive at the next station in time, and Levi never looked back. He continued walking towards the escalator, just like everything in the world continued something they had started. I was the only one in this normality who became a trembling mess in their place, who felt the need to choke on their own vomit of guts, heart and blood, the only one who fell apart under the weight of reality.

I fell back to my seat and I let myself carried away from the moment. It was strange how hard my heartbeat was when all I felt was emptiness. A few minutes passed by like this and staring at the place where he had been sitting. Until that moment when I comprehended all the things had just happened. I let out a loud shriek before closing my eyes tightly, and I felt the hot liquid streaming down on my cheeks as my whole heart and brain exploded.

And I cried.

I cried over the rest of the ride on the metro. I cried when I got off and I cried when I slowly walked in the darkness of the streets. I cried as the early autumn wind tried to dry my tears. I cried when I opened the door of our apartment with shaky hand. I cried silently when I took off my clothes and had a quick and unhealthily hot shower quietly enough for not waking up my adopted sister. I cried when I put on my pyjamas and I cried when I curled up under the sheets in my bed. I cried until I fell asleep.

I cried a lot. The regret ate me up from the inside. I let the chance of getting in contact with him go by, and I never saw him again. It took me a long time to cover up again.

But, hey, one year is still less than four...

**Author's Note:**

> I think I should say sorry.


End file.
